The first paragraph of this book is so astounding that it compels you to keep reading even if you’re not sure that you’re going to like this book.

“On a mild Nebelung afternoon, Matthias Orion, having lived as an exclamation mark in the Wahreit settlement and as the capital letter at home, killed himself”.

Horlung’s prose reads like poetry at times. It is beautiful, uneasy, lyrical and disturbing. She sets the story in South Australia, in a village of German settlers who have cut themselves off from the rest of society to wait for the Messiah to return. The laws that they live by are from a book, the Book of Seasons, written by a deceased pastor, who is the son of one of the main characters. The start of each chapter is named after one of the seasons and is followed by a brief description of what happens in nature in this particular season and what one should do in that season. I loved these passages. They are a reminder of a time when people lived by the seasons, gardened and grew food according to the seasons, and celebrated life and death by them as well. In our modern times where we go to air-conditioned centres and buy out of season produce that has been in cold storage for months, it was a delight to read about how close to the soil the German settlers lived, and how bound to the earth and animals they were. There is a meditative quality about the rituals and rites of each phase, which gave meaning to their existence.

Disruption eventually comes to the small community after Orion takes his own life and his son, Benedict, rather than embracing his community, turns away from it, preferring to live with animals. In his grief, he does not turn to the church, the book of Seasons, or other human beings. He lives with nature, sleeps rough in a barn, has only animals as friends and sees only the local pastor. This decision causes ripples throughout the community and thus an unravelling begins, of Benedict, pastor Helfgot, and others who are now questioning the principles on which their community is based and the beliefs that have sustained them while they wait in the last days.

This is not an easy read at times, but it is worth experiencing this book. The haunting imagery stays with the reader as do the questions that lie under the tale of Benedict and his small community, imploding under its own suppressive ideology, straining to hang on to the past but propelled to confront problems that are both ancient and new.